Tight Spot
by KivaEmber
Summary: For Bishiglomper. Ichigo had been in his fair share of tight spots, but those included sharp Zanpaktou, homicidal opponents and trash talking. This was a little…unconventional. UraIchi.


**Title: **Tight Spot

**Pairing: **UraIchi

**Rating: **T

**Disclaimer: **Pfft. Like Hell I could own it.

**Summary: **For Bishiglomper. Ichigo had been in his fair share of tight spots, but those included sharp Zanpaktou, homicidal opponents and trash talking. This was a little…unconventional. UraIchi.

**A/N: **The sequel for **Window Visit** shall be up soon…probably. XD

Anyway, Bishiglomper did an awesome drawing of Urahara on DA, so passing comments, I asked her to give me a prompt (more like demanded her actually :3 oops), and her prompt was…Escape. :D So many possibilities.

More smutty then my other UraIchi…not long 'til I get enough research to write a lemon with these two!

Enjoy!

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"_I'm going out to collect Jake, but I'll leave the door open for Satan to collect your soul."_

_-- Alan, Two and a half men_

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**TIGHT SPOT**

Ichigo had a certain knack for getting into tight spots.

Fortunately, he also had a knack for getting _out_ of said, tight spots, though not necessarily unscathed (mentally and physically) due to his infamous luck, stubbornness, or the timely arrival of back up in the form of his friends, allied Shinigami/Vizards or an obstinate teal haired Arrancar with a score to settle (although the latter was more of a one time thing then anything).

Unfortunately, he was stuck in a rather…unconventional tight spot – literally and metaphorically.

But let's rewind a bit, shall we?

It had started one stormy Monday, a premonition if Ichigo ever saw one. Of course, the redhead ignored this rather obvious warning from Higher Powers (possibly Fate or Destiny hovering around the water cooler with one of the Greek sisters) and went through the day as usual; have breakfast whilst avoiding an exuberant Isshin, thank Yuzu for making said breakfast, say goodbye to the only two sane family members, go to school (possibly miss a few lessons due to Hollow attacks and gain detentions for it that will also be missed – the vicious cycle that will never end in Ichigo's opinion), come back from school and go home to complete any homework while he had the chance to do so.

The storm had increased in intensity as he entered his house from school, obviously the Higher Powers weren't too pleased at their generous premonition being ignored and decided to throw in a few lightning bolts for good measure, and after shaking loose water droplets from his soaked body, he had shed his wet coat and dumped it on the nearby radiator reserved for such things. His lunatic of a father wasn't home (a blessing and another premonition), and Ichigo could faintly hear Yuzu bustling about in the kitchen and the T.V murmuring from the living room that indicated Karin was being lazy, or moping about not being able to play football due to the terrible (and ominous) weather.

He felt it, a faint brush against his senses as he entered his bedroom and frowned at the odd sensation. He dumped his bag in the corner, glancing round the sparsely decorated room and shrugging when it was apparent nothing was there…then he turned round.

The next few seconds were an odd blur of surprise, bewilderment and a little bemusement buried under layers of anger as something wet smacked his cheek. Ichigo took a step back, brown eyes wide with the look one can only achieve if they've been smacked round the face with some kind of aquatic animal – preferably a fish.

Mercurial grey eyes twinkled merrily at him, damp blond strands brushing against the older male's eyelashes as that enigmatic grin took a mischievous edge to it. Droplets of water spattered off the brim of the blond's green striped hat and collected at a growing puddle on the bedroom floor. Ichigo probably would've reprimanded the shopkeeper if his brain wasn't swirling in a cocktail of so many emotions synonym with 'confusion'.

"…huh…?" Ichigo forced out, voice pathetically bewildered as a tanned hand rubbed the slightly stinging, wet cheek.

"Sorry, Kurosaki-kun!" Urahara laughed jovially, hiding the damp object he used to smack the teen's cheek from sight. "I just wished to see if your face was the same as the freeloader's!"

Ichigo stared for a few more seconds, slowly blinking before white hot anger engulfed his confusion. "W-what the hell is wrong with you!? You can't go around slapping people with-" The redhead paused his tirade, craning his neck round to try and glimpse whatever it was that was used to slap him. "Whatever the hell that was!"

"A rubber red herring." Urahara helpfully supplied, showing the dripping, rubber red herring in view.

Ichigo's mind went bank momentarily as it tried to process the sheer…absurdity of it all. "A…rubber red herring." He echoed hollowly, staring at the rubber object like it was a radioactive, three eyed snail. "You slapped me…with a rubber red herring." It was more of a statement then a rhetorical question, something the shopkeeper had to physically refrain himself from pointing out. "…why…?"

"It was just a simple, inane experiment to pass the time." Urahara sighed, flicking his wrist and sending the rubber fish into the teen's trashcan with expert aim. "And I've always wanted to do that."

Ichigo felt a headache threaten to claw at the inside of his skull, taking a deep breath and pointing at his door. "Out. Now."

Urahara looked at the door, then at the window. "You'd throw me out in this weather, Kurosaki-kun? How heartless." The blond ex-Shinigami Captain shook his head as if disappointed, spreading his arms out to exaggerate his point as more droplets of water from his clothes spattered on the floor. "You didn't even offer me n umbrella!"

A muscle twitched violently round Ichigo's left eyebrow. "You slapped me with a fucking _herring_ before I could even do something like that! And if you didn't want to get wet then you shouldn't have come here just to do that!" The redhead crossed his arms stubbornly. "So it's your own fault!"

Urahara sighed, lowering his arms and slumped his shoulders in a defeated manner. "I guess you're right, Kurosaki-kun." He shuffled towards the door slowly. "I'll walk home…alone…without anything to protect me from the rain…getting wet…but it _is_ my fault so I'll endure it…alone…"

Ichigo rolled his eyes at both Urahara and himself. "Alright…fine. But don't slap me with anything again or I'll kick your ass back out there!"

Like a lightswitch, Urahara perked up from his despondent mood, spinning on his heel to aim a cheerful grin at the scowling redhead. "I knew you loved me deep down, Kurosaki-kun!"

Manipulative, crazy son of a- "Whatever." Ichigo waved the blond away with a scoff. "But don't get any ideas!"

Urahara just grinned, the sharp cracks of lightning outside giving the almost innocent (Urahara? _Innocent_!? Hah!) curve of lips a sense of foreboding. "And what ideas would they be, Kurosaki-kun?" He teased, pushing the brim of his hat up slightly as it threatened to slide down his wet bangs and cover his eyes.

Ichigo didn't quite catch the innuendo, turning away from the blond and entering his bathroom. "Why'd you come here without an umbrella anyway? Seems pretty stupid for a 'genius'." The redhead called out, re-entering his bedroom with a towel in hand. "Here," He shoved it at the blond shopkeeper with a scowl. "Stop dripping water all over my floor."

"Ah. Thank you, Kurosaki-kun!" Urahara dried his hands first on the soft surface of the towel. "I guess you're not as heartless as I first thought!" He paused, glancing up at the brim of his hat. He _really_ didn't want to take it off but…he grasped the wet fabric flipped it off his head. "Would you mind holding this for me, Kurosaki-kun?"

"Sure you trust me with it?" Ichigo muttered, referring to the time when he almost sliced it in half during the third test but accepted the damp hat anyway, gazing at the shopkeeper as the blond methodically towelled his pale hair dry.

"See something you like?" Urahara hummed, grey eyes catching Ichigo's brown ones.

Ichigo stiffened, cheeks tinged pink in mortification at the implication. "Tch. You wish." He snapped, turning his head away from the amused blond. "Take your damn hat back."

Urahara chuckled, draping the towel on the crook of his elbow as his hand tried to get the tousled blond hair under control. "Embarrassed at being caught?" The shopkeeper reached out with his free hand, fingertips brushing lightly against Ichigo's fingers as he took back his hat. Stopping his crude combing, he placed the green striped hat back on his head, holding the towel back out. "Are you developing a little crush on me, Kurosaki-kun?"

Urahara watched in amusement as the redhead spluttered in indignation, brown eyes flashing in anger. "W-what the hell!? Like I'd have a crush on someone like _you_!" Ichigo snatched the towel from the blond's outstretched hand and stormed back to the bathroom, muttering curses under his breath about 'perverts' and 'crazy shopkeepers'. "I can still kick you out, you know!"

Urahara scratched his stubbly chin as his grin widened. Oh, it was such fun to tease the substitute Shinigami! "I do think the lady does protest too much." He remarked as Ichigo came back, grey eyes glittering playfully.

"And I think you're senile." Came the redhead's irate rebuttal, the teen glaring at his impromptu houseguest reproachfully. "Tch. I should kick you out, pervert."

"Aw. You're too kind to do that, Kurosaki-kun!" Urahara laughed, flapping a hand blithely. He took a step forward, sending a charming grin at the redhead. "Plus, you like me too much."

Ichigo growled, narrowing his eyes angrily. "I _will_ kick you out." He promised solemnly.

Whatever Urahara was going to say in reply was never to be known as when the shopkeeper took another step forward, his foot slipped on the small puddle he had made earlier and he stumbled into the teen. With a surprised cry and flailing limbs, the two males tumbled to the floor with Ichigo pinned under Urahara's heavier body.

There was a brief, stunned silence as Urahara's hat (which fell off in the confusion) rolled on its brim precariously to the cupboard, a soft _'fwpht'_ as it toppled over.

As if that was the cue, Ichigo's face lit up in a brilliant crimson, wide brown eyes locked onto just as surprised grey. He struggled to regain his breath from being violently winded, feeling highly uncomfortable the odd sensation Urahara's body pressing down on him brought. "Heavy…" He wheezed.

"Oh! I'm sorry, Kurosaki-kun!" Urahara apologised, pushing himself onto his elbows and supporting himself on them, smiling sheepishly. "I slipped…"

And this was the tight spot Ichigo had gotten himself in.

There was a lull; the only thing heard was the distant sounds of Ichigo's sisters downstairs, the soft drumming of rain on the window and rumbling thunder.

Urahara wondered when this situation had taken such a drastic turn. His original plan was to tease the younger male a little, maybe make a few sexual insinuations to see how red the teen could go. Not…not pin the poor boy to the floor and having the redhead stare at him like he was going to ravish him. He told himself to get off Ichigo, apologise again and hightail it outta there before anything else decided to backfire.

Unfortunately, his body wasn't exactly listening to his common sense (and when did it ever?).

Ichigo was having a similar problem, though it wasn't due to his body ignoring common sense. "U-Urahara…are you going to get off?"

Urahara blinked at the teen, suddenly caught off guard by the _vulnerable_ look in ochre eyes. Ichigo's sarcastic, badass attitude and powerful Shinigami abilities always made people forget that the redhead was young, very, very young compared to the Shinigami who had a few centuries tucked under their belt. Mentally cursing at himself for his blunder, the shopkeeper told himself to move _right now_! Unsurprisingly, his body refused to obey. Oh well, time to work with what he's got. "Perhaps…if you ask nicely, Kurosaki-kun."

The vulnerable look was lost amongst the sudden flare of anger smouldering in brown eyes, the redhead growling low in his throat. "Fucking pervert!" He wriggled a little, planting his hands on black clad, damp shoulders and pushing. "You're getting me wet!"

Urahara abstained from slipping a sexual innuendo in there. "That wasn't asking nicely, Kurosaki-kun." He admonished lightly, pushing against the hands on his shoulders to aim another grin at the redhead. "Say 'please'!"

"Go to Hell!" Ichigo snarled. "That's it! I'm kicking you out right now you fucking paedophile, and I hope you get struck by l-"

It seemed that accidents and blunders were lining up in an unfortunate chain of events that day, as Ichigo managed to overbalance Urahara and cause the older man's elbow to slip out from under him. The redhead gave mortified squeak as the shopkeeper's lips collided with his own. "_Mphff!?"_

Urahara made an odd noise in the back of his throat, momentarily forgetting to breathe as Ichigo's slim fingers dug into black clad shoulders and unintentionally moved his lips sensually against his as the redhead tried to protest.

Ichigo's thoughts swirled in dizzying circles in an attempt to catch up with each other and figure out what the hell had just happened, lungs burning from lack of oxygen and heart pounding painfully against his chest. He knew that he probably looked like an idiot, eyes wide in the classical 'deer-in-headlights' expression and cheeks rivalling the shade of an overripe tomato, but amongst the jumbled emotions of confusion, indignation and anger, he felt a faint sense of…pleasure?

Urahara mentally kicked himself and jerked back, lips moving silently before the shopkeeper was able to find his voice. "Er…oops?" Oh, how eloquent.

Ichigo's face had taken a deep flush, panting heavily as glazed ochre eyes sharpened. "Y-you…" His fingers clenched into an almost bruising grip, the redhead licking his lips nervously. "That…that was my first kiss…"

Urahara inwardly cringed, waiting for the punch he felt he deserved for stealing something important from the teen. Whereas others would impart small anecdotes of their first kiss with childhood crushes and first loves to their friends, Ichigo would be forced to admit that his was stolen by a seedy merchant who slipped and accidentally liplocked with him. He should've just left. "I'm sor-"

This time wasn't an accident; Ichigo's brown eyes hardened with resolve and with a harsh jerk, pulled the utterly bewildered blond down for another kiss. It was just as awkward as the first, the redhead moving his lips with all the naivety and inexperience as an innocent teenager, though it didn't dull the pleasure the action brought.

Right now, common sense was banging metaphoric pots and pans together, screaming at Urahara to put an end to this before it got completely out of his control; the shopkeeper shut it up by saying that everything had already hit the fan and that it was getting _really_, _really_ hard to resist the tantalising temptation of claiming those virgin lips (though not so virgin anymore, Urahara mused as he applied more pressure to the teen's lips) for his own.

Urahara felt his heartbeat accelerate as a shy tongue experimentally probed his lips, half lidded grey eyes watching Ichigo's face when he parted his lips for the redhead's inexperienced tongue, carefully drawing it into his mouth as the teen gave a strangled gasp, eyes squeezing shut even tighter.

Ichigo moaned as the shopkeeper gave a firm suck round his tongue, mind jarring to a screeching halt with the overload of pleasure and confusion mixed with insecurities cramming itself into his brain. Why was he doing this? Was it hormones? Did he really develop a crush (even if this was true, he wouldn't admit it and give the blond the satisfaction of being right)? Did it really matter right now? No, his mind chorused, focusing on how the older male did sinfully wicked things to him with his tongue and teeth. Thinking could come later when he wasn't feeling so _good_.

Pulling back for air, Urahara panted as he tried to gather his scattered thoughts. He shouldn't be doing this, he had crossed an imaginary line that he couldn't quite remember drawing (if it was even him that drew it). Many reasons as to why he shouldn't carry on, ranging from paedophilia to what Isshin would do (all involving sharp medical tools near sensitive areas) upon discovering him molesting his only son. The former gave him the most worry. "I don't think you underst-"

"Talk later." Ichigo grunted, wanting to feel that wonderful sensation burn in his veins and alight his nerves with buzzing pleasure again. He threaded slim fingers through pale strands, drawing the uneasy blond close.

Okay, it was getting reeeeeally hard to resist. "Kurosaki-kun." He tried in his sternest voice (which he hadn't used in…well…he couldn't quite remember but it was a very long time). "Think this through." He shivered when the fingers massaged his scalp, his own resolve wavering as Ichigo's strengthened. Bastard played dirty!

"You kissed me first…" Ichigo breathed, though he made no further action, brown eyes peering at the blond from under sooty lashes.

"By accident." Urahara corrected, breathing easier now that the redhead had stopped to think. How to escape this little tight spot he got himself caught in? "I think it would be best if I left-" _'Like I should've done ages ago.'_ "-and let you think about what you're doing."

"…" Ichigo closed his eyes, letting his head fall back on his bedroom floor in possible realization. Urahara relaxed, unable to crush the small part of him that wailed in disappointment, and began to move from the redhead. Or, he would've if Ichigo didn't drag him back down to press their foreheads together. "I've thought about it…"

And the part of him that was wailing in disappointment was now cheering enthusiastically, ignoring his irate common sense hiss of, 'traitor!' "And…?"

Ichigo's eyes opened half mast, that vulnerable look back in his eyes. "We're in big shit."

Huh?

"Kisuke…" A voice growled behind them, a voice that made the blond's blood run cold and heart stutter pathetically.

Urahara turned his head, apprehensive grey eyes locking into the solemn form of one Kurosaki Isshin. A Kurosaki Isshin armed with medical tools and looked ready to kill. To kill _him_. "Ah. Isshin, it's not what it looks …" He trailed off when the single parent's eyes narrowed dangerously. "…like…"

"Dad." Ichigo called from under the shopkeeper, the innocent tone not really helping. "It's not Urahara's fault, I-"

"Ichigo." Isshin interrupted, eyes shining unnaturally bright as Urahara began sweating bullets. "Don't defend him. He should've known better. _Right_, Kisuke?"

Urahara grinned sheepishly, wondering if he'd be able to grab his hat by the cupboard before fleeing.

From one tight spot to another, though this one was one of the more familiar ones.

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**A/N: **Woo! Done!

I hope Urahara was in character, because I view him as someone who'd tease, but when it looks like things are getting a little _too_ out of hand, tries to backpedal. As shown above :D I like dorky!Urahara.

Plus Isshin was totally OOC because, well, if _you_'d come home to see your only son with your _much_ older friend draped suggestively over him, you wouldn't be too pleased.

Ah well, criticism and reviews welcome! Time to finish the sequel to **Window Visit**!

Ja ne!


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